A Rose Between Two Thorns
by shakeitsalome
Summary: When her secure life began to crumble, she expected a guardian angel. Instead, she received two bodyguards who are determined to keep her safe at all costs. Can Eva keep up with the changes they bring? AU Wade Barrett/Sheamus/OC. Co-written with xLou26.
1. Chapter One - Safety

Chapter One - Safety

After one last check of the house, Eva Jackson once again rearranged the vase of yellow roses that would greet potential buyers. The promise of a new beginning. She sure hoped the flowers would live up to the expectation she had. Surely there was someone that wanted to buy the house, have a new beginning in life. But after nearly three months on the market, she had yet been able to shift the damn thing.

"Trust me, if I could afford you, I'd buy you myself," she promised the empty house as she ran a finger along the table the vase was on. She knew that anyone – coworker or buyer – who overheard her speaking to a house as though it could speak back would thing she had gone off the deep end. But it was impossible not to. All houses had soul, especially ones that had been around more than fifty years.

The Victorian had, over the years, housed more people than she could count. The sellers had restored it to its original beauty. New paint on the outside, along with cheerful flowerbeds on either side of he steps leading to the porch. New paint and wallpaper on the inside, as well as woodwork that had been polished to a gleam. When she stood in the foyer, Eva had the feeling that at any moment a lady from the late nineteenth century would descent the stairs in all her finery.

She closed her eyes, imagining the clatter of children running through the house. The tittering of women seated in the living room, working on a quilt while gossiping about the neighbors. Rugged gentlemen apologizing for the dust on their clothes when they came home after a carriage race. How much laughter had this house seen? How many tears? Had it witnessed affairs? Weddings? Had the dining room been the scene of familial drama? Had the front door supported a tearful woman seeing her beloved off to war?

Yes, houses had soul. Generations of secrets that would never be revealed were contained within the walls. And it was up to her to encourage buyers to connect with the soul and add more to it.

She opened the front door, using a handkerchief to wipe any smudges from the beveled glass. The autumn afternoon was slightly overcast but warm for Connecticut. There was a chance of rain later. A gentle breeze ruffled the vibrant leaves scattered across the lawn and she smiled before turning to make sure everything was perfect.

_Quaint Victorian stater home. Loads of potential for a growing family._ The words in the ad placed in the local paper repeated in her mind as she moved through the downstairs area. She'd walked the house so many times she knew it well. After the fifth showing she'd contemplated telling the owners to wait and re-list when the market was better. But it would have done no good. They were adamant that it stay on the market until it was sold.

The floors, scarred from over a hundred years of footsteps, were now sealed and waxed to show off their beauty. The new appliances in the kitchen were modern but fit in with the décor. She paused in there, turning the platter of still-warm cookies a quarter of an inch. One step back to take in the effect, she nodded. The breakfast nook was one of her favorite spots in the house, the floral tablecloth she'd purchased set off the ruffled yellow curtains. Satisfied, she went upstairs. The runner on the staircase was new; the upstairs hall still held the faint aroma of paint. In front of the master bedroom was the one floorboard that creaked. Weak sunshine filtered through the lace curtains in the small bathroom, giving the white walls and claw-foot tub an ethereal glow. She double-checked the light over the enclosed stairs to the attic. Fully satisfied that the house was ready, she left the door ajar and turned to go downstairs.

Only to scream at the sight of a man at the top of the staircase.

"Holy shit, Eva," Nick Nemeth groaned. He pulled off his sunglasses, jaw working rapidly as he chewed his ever-present gum. He raised both eyebrows in alarm. "I'm not _that_ hideous."

"You scared me." She folded her arms over her chest and scowled when he chuckled. "Ever since Stacy—"

"Relax. You were the one who left the door open while you wandered around. I closed it, by the way. You're welcome." He tucked his sunglasses in the breast pocket of his black suit jacket and smoothed his hands down the front. As though a bit of lint would dare land on him. Blue eyes sweeping over her, one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. "You're looking good, Eva."

She ignored the compliment. They were as natural to him as breathing. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't come by and wish my favorite realtor good luck with her open house?" He tilted his head. "What is it, the ninth showing now?"

Her eyes rolled as she snorted. "If you think you can just waltz in and lure buyers to something you're selling—"

"Would I do that to you? Really." He sounded insulted and stepped back when she moved to the stairs. She didn't miss the gallant sweep of his arm as she started down. "Have they gone down in price?"

"Are you interested in buying?" she asked in return, not bothering to spare him a glance as she went to the door. Glancing out, she saw a minivan pulling up behind Nick's silver Porsche.

"It's not really my taste.

Eva nodded, mentally preparing herself for the questions the couple climbing out of the van would have. She straightened her black skirt, made sure there were no visible stains on her blouse, and opened the door to welcome them. She recognized them from a recent showing. They were in search of the perfect home for their new family. The woman, she noted with a smile as she watched them stroll up the walk, was pregnant.

She knew their budget was tight, just as she knew the listed price was more than they could pay. But she guided them into the living room, lauding the improvements made to the house in recent years. Perhaps she could phone in a favor at the bank. Perhaps the owners would go down if the couple showed real interest.

Inviting them to look around and come to her if they had any questions, she left them in the kitchen and was surprised to find Nick lingering in the foyer. He leaned casually in the doorway leading to the living room, looking as though he had nowhere else to go.

"There's a lady upstairs. A pro. I didn't recognize her but she said she'd poke around on her own. Probably swooping in for the kill."

"Great," Eva muttered. It wasn't unheard of for other agents to take a look at houses that were near the end of their contract. She had done it herself more than once, using tactics her mentor had taught her to get a better deal. At the end of the day, a house selling was all that mattered. "If I don't unload it today, she can have it."

"I bet you'll have five offers before you lock up."

One eyebrow lifted. It wasn't like Nick to offer encouragement. Especially when he had been the one to swoop in and take a house from her. It had happened several times. Each time had ended with his treating her to dinner and a show in New York. His way of apologizing, she supposed. "How do I know you're not going to call the owners five minutes after I do with promises of a great deal?"

"I haven't done that in months," he scoffed, pushing off to follow her into the living room. "At least, not to you."

She shook her head, seating herself in front of the pigeon-hole desk next to the fireplace. Despite their banter, she was grateful for Nick's company. Even if he was vain, egotistical and a bit of a jerk, his presence provided a little security. He kept her from thinking of... No. She steeled herself against the thoughts and pretended to be interested in the screen of her phone, regarding him as he settled on the couch. He managed to look out of place but enviously comfortable. Taking in the slicked-back blonde hair, shaven jaw, and athletic figure, she could understand why he was a hot commodity among single realtors. He was good looking. Charming. He lived a wealthy lifestyle of expensive suits and fast cars. Always with a beautiful woman on his arm but rarely the same one more than twice.

Recalling the several dates they'd had over the past year she wondered why she'd let herself fall for him. Not in a romantic sense – any woman with half a brain knew better than to fall in love with Nick. She was a bit proud of herself for not allowing herself to fall into his bed. She wasn't quite sure how she'd managed that. He had a knack for making a woman feel desired. The kisses they'd shared had been more than a little arousing. But...

"Damn, if her tits jiggle like that now, I wonder how they jiggle when she's getting fucked?"

Eva blinked in surprise at the crude statement. Following his line of vision out the front window, she saw a young woman running down the sidewalk. All of her assets jiggled, enhanced by skintight workout clothes. Wrinkling her nose as Nick rose to get a better look, she fought a snort of annoyance.

_That_ was why. True, it would be easy to crawl into bed with him and have tons of sex, but she wanted a man that wouldn't be planning for the next woman before she could untangle the sheets from her legs.

Rolling her eyes, she considered throwing something at him but refrained. It would only lead to more crass observations. She heard the thump of feet on the stairs and straightened, smiling when Mr. and Mrs. Collins walked into the living room. Was it her imagination or had Mrs. Collins' pregnancy grown more prominent in the past thirty minutes?

"We love it, Miss Jackson," the woman announced, beaming. Her eyes were full of hope as she looked around the living room. One hand rested on her belly. "And we want to make an offer now."

"Marvelous!" Eva enthused. Nick and his wandering eye forgotten, she rose and invited them to get comfortable on the couch.

Come hell or high water, she would sell this house today.

* * *

A quick look around the room and Vince McMahon knew he was in safe hands. He had no option but to increase security. He'd lost one member of staff – a friend no less – to a cold-hearted thug and had another harassed. All in the space of a week.

The security had come from all over, but mainly Connecticut and New York. He wanted the best and he could afford the best.

From the door of his office, he studied every man but one stood out to him. Casually he flicked through the pages of personal profiles he'd been sent and stared the picture of the man in question, making sure it was a match. The profile was bulked out with background history and experience and the top line caught his attention.

_Typical Irish temper._

Perfect.

"Stephen Farrelly." He pointed to the man and beckoned him over. The man rose to his feet, capturing the attention of the room. The size of him was astonishing as was his history detailed out in his profile.

"Pleasure to meet yeh." They shook hands, a formality that left them silently battling for dominance. Vince had to admire that - it was exactly what he wanted in his new security men.

"Sit down." Vince gestured to the leather seat in front of his desk. "You sir, have quite possibly the most important job." He handed Stephen a plain brown folder then said, "Whatever you do, make sure nothing and no one hurts her."

Stephen nodded and swiftly took the folder, taking a peek inside. "May ah ask why?"

"Right now that doesn't matter." It didn't. He wanted all of his staff safe, but to keep them from asking unwanted questions, he had to treat everyone the same.

"Suspect everyone?" His tone was suspicious to say the least. Vince looked him dead in the eye and he could see the cogs turning in his head. Storing questions to ask about or more probably, find out himself.

"You can be assured that if I find out any more about this incident, you'll be briefed." Vince stood up with a groan, his joints aching with the cold weather. "She'll be showing this house tomorrow morning."

Vince handed over the details of the house that had been on the market for only a few days now. Only two blocks away from the frightful murder. No wonder the current occupiers wanted to move away and it would be a miracle if the place even got sold.

"The incident yeh speak of…" Vince nodded, fully expecting the question. He glanced down at his profile again, seeing that he'd been working in New York for the past 7 months.

Maybe he hadn't seen the papers or seen any of the news broadcasts since he'd arrived.

"Stacy Proctor, excellent realtor she was." Vince returned to his seat and leant back, "She was finishing up at an open house, about to leave then she was strangled." Forcing the words out was hard. It had shaken the neighbourhood, himself included and now he only wanted his employers to feel secure while they worked.

"Ah take it he's still out there?"

"Another worker was harassed two days ago, a passer-by scared him away though." Vince recalled the phone call he'd received from Angela. She'd been scared and shaken and hadn't returned to work since. "The police say they've had no new leads."

Vince looked to Stephen, very much aware that he had remained silent for most of the time in his company. "Ah'm no here to solve the murder, sir."

"Damn right you're not." Vince leant across the table and tapped harshly on the brown folder he'd given Stephen. "You're here to keep her safe!"

* * *

Briskly walking into the warmth of the McMahon Real Estate head office, Eva rubbed her hands together then lightly blew warm air onto them. She wished she'd worn gloves but the blue skies had misled her that morning. Maybe she'd have enough time to grab a cup of coffee before she had to leave again.

The receptionist greeted her with a wave, which Eva returned as she dashed by. Cold forgotten now she was assured she wouldn't get frostbite, she took the stairs to the upper floor where Mr. McMahon's office was located. She couldn't wait to tell him that the Collins' deal had been accepted. They would be meeting in the morning to do the paperwork.

"Is he in?" she asked the secretary stationed outside Mr. McMahon's office. The blonde nodded and opened her mouth to speak but Eva ignored her, striding forward to push the door open. "Bring in some coffee..."

The request died on her lips as she finally turned to look to the secretary and finally took note of the men waiting. Some were seated, but many stood. One leaned insolently against the wall, face impassive. She was fully aware of his eyeing her up and down. Pulling her coat tighter around her as though to shield herself from his perusal, she defiantly met his gaze. His lips curved into a knowing smirk and she felt overly warm.

"Coffee?" she requested of the secretary, her voice less firm than normal as the man continued to look at her. "I'll take it in to Vince."

Eva stepped forward towards as Maria left her desk to go make the coffee. Usually the office was a quiet place; she wouldn't say it was homely, but never before had she felt such tension around her. Her eyes skipped to each man, eventually landing on the man leant against the wall. He continued to look at her but his smirk had disappeared. Odd.

Why on earth would these men be here?

They all had similar builds – tall and very muscular. No way in hell were they all going to purchase a house.

Had she somehow walked onto a porn set? She blushed at the thought and immediately pushed it away. The man smirked again, obviously guessing the line of her thoughts. Eva glanced over him, taking in the black leather jacket over a snug gray henley. The buttons were undone. Dark jeans clung to his lower half, the front pockets bulging with what she assumed were his keys and cell phone. When her gaze swept upward again she saw his hands resting on his hips, one dark eyebrow lifted in question.

Her eyes landed on his nose. It was crooked, obviously from being broken, and added to the cynical expression on his face. Black hair was combed back from his face. One errant curl had dropped to his forehead, which crinkled as she continued to look at him.

She forced herself to look elsewhere. Would Maria ever fix the damn coffee?

Switching her stance, her feet shuffled on the carpet. Talk about feeling uncomfortable. From her position she could hear a couple of the men chatting away – something about a fat check and an easy amount of work. This had to be something involving Vince, surely. This methods of selling were often thought of as a little mad, but this was pushing the boat out.

Maria had now struck up a conversation with another colleague, the coffee long forgotten. Rolling her eyes she turned around, noting that the man once staring at her had disappeared. A quick 360 of the room and she couldn't see him. Strange how a man so big could be so sneaky.

Forgoing the coffee she turned on her heel and marched into Vince's office. He would explain what was going on. The door was still ajar from where she had pushed it open earlier so she nudged it further with her hip. "Vince, I finally unloaded that Victorian! We meet at the bank in the morning. And what the hell is going on with all the..."

Again her words faltered. Again she found herself looking at a strange man. This time, though, he was seated in the comfortable chair across from Vince's desk. And he wasn't staring at her as though she were the last juicy steak at a barbecue. Wetting her lips, she managed a smile and looked to her boss. Her mentor didn't seem perturbed at her barging in. Then again, he never seemed perturbed when she entered his office. If anything he looked relieved that she was there.

Clearing her throat, she decided to start again. "Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to give you the news. I'll go so you can get back to...whatever."

"Close the door and sit down," Vince said. His voice was gruff as always. He pointed to the empty chair next to the stranger. The stranger that was now standing and removing his cap.

A gentleman? She'd thought they were extinct. Following orders, she shut the door and moved to take a seat, pausing long enough to remove her coat and drape it over the back of the chair. "What's the story, Vince? Starting a bodybuilder's strip club?"

Eva laughed only to be greeted by silence. Her gaze flickered to the stranger and then back to Vince.

"We might as well get this over with now. Eva, meet Stephen Farrelly." Eva turned to the man again who stared back at her, expressionless as if he possessed no ounce of feelings or emotions. "He'll be securing open houses with you and generally making sure everything's safe."

"And the men outside-"

"Will be working with other members of staff." Eva could only nod as Vince smiled her way. Was all of this really necessary? She wasn't about to question his decision though.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Stephen looking through a folder on the table, then looking to her. Leaning forward, the picture on the piece of paper became clearer. It was her, looking terribly tired, dishevelled and quite a few pounds over her current weight. "You couldn't have used a better picture?"

Reaching for the file, Eva had every intention of snatching it away and burning it, never to be seen again. Stephen however had other ideas. Before her fingertips could grasp the edge of the file, his hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her hand away. It was strong and tight but most of all she noticed the warmth.

"Ah'll see to gettin' it replaced with a new one." Stephen drawled out slowly. Eva's heart almost leapt out of her chest. Never in a million years did she expect to match him with that accent. So he was from Ireland? But what the hell was he doing in America, working with her no less.

"Please do," she managed. She looked down to where his hand still clasped her wrist. "You can let go now. I promise not to try grabbing things from you again."

"Right." He smiled. It was brief but she noticed it, as well as a surge of warmth when his grip loosened. She was aware of the gentle sweep of each finger over the back of her hand as he pulled away and was tempted to reach for the photo to feel his touch again. Instead she rested her hands in her lap.

Eva looked to Vince, primly crossing her legs and tugging on her skirt to ensure her modesty. Clasping her restless hands over her knees she met Vince's gaze. "I take it he'll be meeting me at showings?"

"No." Vince straightened his tie and rested his elbows on the desk. "Stephen will be accompanying you to open houses, meetings at the bank, and wherever you need to go that is not in the office."

"Is that necessary? I can't get business done with the Incredible Hulk breathing down my neck," she stated, glancing to Stephen. "No offense."

Stephen held his hands up as if to say none taken but he didn't utter anything. Vince however had other ideas.

"Do I need to remind you about Stacy? And what about Angela? She's still terrified to come back to work." Eva nodded as he continued his tirade, so maybe he had a point. "I want you and every other worker to know that their safety is a priority, got that?"

Thoroughly chastised, she looked down at her hands. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, please show him around the building. I've given him your address, so he'll be escorting you to the bank. He's going to keep you safe." Vince shot a hard look at Stephen then muttered, "if he knows what's good for him."

That made her smile. Curmudgeon that he was, Vince's number one priority was creating a welcoming work environment. She recalled his angry tirade after Stacy's murder, and the tears of anguish at the woman's funeral. He really was the best boss a woman could have. She would have gone around and hugged him if she knew he wouldn't fuss at her for doing so.

Getting to her feet, she reached for her coat. But it had already been retrieved, and was draped over Stephen's thick arm. He was already standing. "Very well. I'll put my things in my office then give you a tour."

**A/N: Surprise! Though I'm sure none of you are as shocked as I was when the fabulous Lou suggested we co-write a fic. Trust me when I say that I've pinched myself several times since to make sure I wasn't dreaming. And now the asskissing is over (for now)...**

**It is our hope that you all enjoy this new venture. Please let us know what you think! We love you all! (Josie & Lou)**


	2. Chapter Two - Me and My Shadow

Chapter Two – Me and My Shadow

Standing in front of the large bay window, Stephen looked out onto the quiet street. He could hear Eve rustling behind him, working her way through some paperwork before the clients arrived. The rustling stopped and then she let out a sigh. He knew she was going to say something.

"You're going to scare clients off if you stand by the window." He didn't need to turn around to know she was staring at him.

"Yeh'd rather me stand outside by the door?"

A huff of annoyance. She didn't speak but he had a feeling he knew her thoughts. Finally, the thump of a stack of papers, then her footsteps on the hardwood floor. "I'd rather you make yourself a little less conspicuous. You're not planning on frisking everyone that comes in, are you?"

"Ah plan to do me job, Miss Jackson."

"Please don't intimidate them," she requested.

He finally turned to look at her. For once, she wasn't glancing at him as she worked. Silent, he watched her stow papers in her large leather bag. Her back was to him, and his mind wandered to her begrudging politeness the day before. The tour of the McMahon building had been lackluster, ending in front of her office. He'd been gathering his thoughts to go over her plans for today when she had grabbed her purse and coat. She had to dash out for a few moments, she'd explained, and he could show himself around while she was gone.

What had been so important she had to run off so quickly?

"You can stay out of the way whilst I deal with the potential buyers, right?" She turned around as she tucked a couple of stray hairs away from her face, lips pursing as if she had forgotten something. Glancing up she stilled, finally catching on that he'd been watching her. "What?"

"Yeh telling me how to do me job again." Crossing his arms over his chest, he took another quick look outside then turned his attention back to Eva. "Ah don' like people telling me how to do me job."

"I was asking you a question."

"Ah'll go wherever ah want to. It might be twenty foot away or ah might be breathin' over yeh shoulder. Yeh have no say in the matter." As her eyes widened and her lips parted in shock, Stephen knew he was being harsh, but he was going to nip this is the bud right now. He was being paid to keep her safe and even though he didn't fully understand why, he'd make damn sure she was safe.

She stared at him, still squatting in front of her bag. He waited for a tirade but she merely pressed her lips into a fine line and rose to her full height. Then perching in the chair at the small table, she laced her fingers and eyed him coldly. "I think I liked you better when you didn't talk."

"If yeh don' want me talkin' yeh should stop talkin' yehself." He arched an eyebrow when her lips parted in shock again, then turned to look out the window again. A man was walking up the path to the house, his strange slicked back blonde hair had him suspicious already. "Stay there."

Even though he'd told Eva to stay where she was, he could hear her heels clicking against the hardwood floor behind him then she said, "What's going on?"

"Can ah help yeh?" Stephen knew he wasn't coming to look at the house, the couple who were coming weren't scheduled for another fifteen minutes or so. The man had a cocky smirk, one that he was itching to wipe off his face.

"Who the hell's this?" Frowning as the man looked around him at Eva, Stephen took another step forward.

"Yeh worst nightmare if yeh don' tell me who yeh are."

"Can you tone down the bodyguard stuff down, or at least get it out of your system." Eva stepped by him to latch her arm onto the other man. Husband? Boyfriend? "Stephen here is making sure the house is secure. Don't you have someone with you too?"

"I just came to make sure you were okay." The man slipped an arm around Eva's shoulders and pulled her in close. Stephen narrowed his eyes at the gesture but his discontent was ignored. "What with it being so close to..." He shrugged and pulled Eva closer. "And you know old McMahon figures the men can take care of themselves."

"I'm trying not to think about it." She patted him on the chest, her expression strained. Pulling away, she looked to Stephen. "Nick, this is Stephen Farrelly, part of the new security team Vince hired. Stephen, this is Nick Nemeth. He's an agent with McMahon Real Estate."

"How's it going, man?" Nick greeted, extending a hand in Stephen's direction.

Stephen looked down at the offered hand. Grunting, he placed his hands on his hips and took stock of the man Eva had greeted so warmly. "Pleased to meet yeh."

"He's not paid to be polite," Eva pointed out as she walked back into the house. "I made coffee, I'll fix you a cup."

"Thanks, babe," Nick called after her, grinning now as he brushed by Stephen to enter the house. "And don't worry about not being polite, man. I guess manners aren't sold with steroids."

Stephen had to grin, dishing out payback was a hobby of his. Once Eva had left the room, Stephen grabbed the back of Nicks suit jacket, stopping him in his tracks. He flopped around a bit, trying to get him to let go. "Ah take it yeh have somewhere else to be."

With a push, Nick toppled over the step into the house, only just landing on his feet like a cat that had fallen from the top of a ten story building. The door rattled at Stephen slammed it shut, a satisfying feeling coming over him. He didn't care if he worked for Vince McMahon because now so did he. As far as he was concerned, this was a level playing field.

Stephen rubbed his hands together as he went to the kitchen. Pushing the swinging door open, he opened his mouth to announce that Nemeth was a complete dick and he wanted nothing to do with him but pressed his lips together with a shake of his head. Obviously she liked the guy. Watching as she poured coffee into a mug, he held the door open, enjoying her elegant stance.

She may have been hard to deal with but he had to admit to himself that the scenery was nice. His lips curved in an appreciative smile, returning to normal when she glanced up.

"Where's Nick?"

"He had another appointment."

"Really? He didn't tell me..." She tilted her head to one side, a lock of dark brown hair falling over her shoulder. "What did you do?"

He didn't bother answering. She would no doubt defend her friend. Boyfriend. Whatever he was to her. "If yeh pourin', ah wouldn't mind a cup."

Eva set the carafe down on the hot pad with deliberate control. Stephen looked on, expression blank, as she straightened her shoulders. Eyes sparking with defiance, she met his gaze and gestured to the island counter. "Ta-da. It's poured."

"Yeh no' havin' any?" he asked, pursing his lips to hide a smile as he closed the space between them. His left hand reached out to grasp the cup of coffee, refusing to break eye contact. "Yeh hate havin' me here."

It wasn't a question, but she answered just the same. "Hate is such a strong word. I dislike having you here. I do my best work alone. And before you start lecturing me, yes, I know and understand why Vince hired you and the others. I'm glad he cares so much about the women that work for him."

"A word of advice," he began, lifting the cup for a sip of the brew. It was a bit weaker than he preferred but he knew better than to complain. He wouldn't be surprised if she dumped the rest over his head. If she could reach that high. "Stop lookin' a gift horse in the mouth."

"You may be as big as a horse, but you're hardly a gift. You're nothing more than a pretense at safety thought up by my da—" Eva cut off and looked away quickly. After a sharp inhale, she met his eyes once more. "By my boss."

"And since we share the same boss, we're stuck together," he elaborated. Leaning down so they were face to face, he lightly tapped her nose to make sure he had her attention. "And yer just goin' to have to get used to it, princess."

* * *

Was it possible? For the first time today she could look around without seeing Stephens intimidating figure standing ten feet away from her. Before she could venture off home for the day, she did have a few errands to run. Visit the bank, attend her spinning class at the gym, then pick up groceries.

"Yeh finished for the day?"

Damn, just when she thought she was free.

He would stand in the doorway of her office blocking her escape. Shuffling a stack of files to one side, Eva located her keys and looked around for anything else that needed her attention. "Yes," she answered finally. "I have to take some papers to the bank but I'm going to do that on the way to the gym." She looked up to gauge his reaction and smiled. "So I guess you're off duty until tomorrow?"

Why had she posed it as a question? Blowing a strand of hair from her face she watched as his giant shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

"Ah need to join the gym actually," he said, rubbing his chin. "Yeh mind showin' me where it is?"

"But—" Eva stopped and cleared her throat. "They don't have a trainer tonight."

"Ah don't need a trainer," he promised with a chuckle.

Of course he didn't. "If you don't mind following me to the bank..."

"Of course not." Stephen answered her a little too quickly for her liking and the grin on his face was starting to irritate her.

"Then lead the way." Eva gestured towards the doorway Stephen was blocking. He'd taken his suit jacket off which was now gripped in his hand. She glanced over him one more time and couldn't help but be grateful that he'd dressed smart. Although that didn't mean he didn't stand out during the home showings, just standing there or lurking about.

"Now then Stephen, how are you getting on with Eva?" Just as Eva clicked her door shut, she heard Vince after his heavy footsteps.

Stephen didn't hesitate to answer, "Excellent, she's actually just offered to show me around the town."

Bullshit. Eva turned around to see that grin on Stephens face again. She was even more gobsmacked when Vince mirrored that grin.

"That's what I like to hear." Vince shuffled past but not before placing a hand on her shoulder as he had a sudden ingenious idea. "Why don't you take him to that bar."

"What bar?" Eva ground out, feeling Stephens stare on her.

"You know, that pub on Bedford Street."

Eva had no clue which pub he meant, so she just nodded. "Maybe. It's been a long day and we're going to the gym."

"Ah wouldn't mind mind a pint after the gym," Stephen offered.

"Yes well. We'll have to see. They're calling for rain." Oh god she sounded so stupid. Jangling the keys in her hand she sent him a quick apologetic look as Vince wished them a good evening and went on his way. "Maybe tomorrow?" Or the next day. Or never. Never sounded good.

"That's fine. It'll beat the beer at the hotel bar, that's for sure." He continued to the elevator, glancing back to make sure she followed.

"Hotel?" She quickened her steps to catch up with him. "You're staying at a _hotel_?"

"Yeh'd know that if yeh cared to find out anything abou' me." He held the elevator doors open until she reached him.

Should she apologize? It wasn't like he'd tried to find out anything about her, had he? As the doors slid shut, she looked across at him and said, "Where are you from?" Blunt and to the point, surely he couldn't complain about that.

"New York."

"I've heard strange accents from New York, but none like yours." After only a moment they were on the ground floor and into the reception area. Through the doors to the parking lot she could see that it was in fact raining. She struggled to remember if she'd brought an umbrella with her, barely hearing Stephen's rumbling voice. Tearing her gaze from the rain – it was getting heavier with each passing second – she looked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Ah said, that's the most recent place ah'm from. Before that was Boston, an' before that was me real home."

"Which is?" she asked as politely as possible while rummaging through her purse for an umbrella. Surely she had one stuffed somewhere.

"Ireland."

Was that a hint of wistfulness in his voice? "I've always wanted to go there," she blurted. Where had that come from? Giving up on finding an umbrella, she turned up the collar of her coat and hunched her shoulders. "I'm parked at the far end."

"Of course yeh are." He took her elbow and guided her closer to the doors then draped his suit jacket over her head. "Can yeh make a run for it in those?"

Startled at the gesture, she didn't bother glancing down at her heels. Even though she was still within the building, the warmth of his jacket was comforting. "Yes, I can."

"Let's go, then. Ah'm parked under the light." Stephen grasped her elbow once more and pushed open the door.

Her first step off the sidewalk that surrounded the building was into what felt like a river of cold rainwater. Shivering in disgust, she hurried to keep up with his long, fast strides as they dashed across the parking lot. His jacket shielded her from the heavy drops and she inhaled the scent of his cologne.

She had the foresight to unlock her car before they reached it, scrambling into it as quickly as possible. "Thank you," she said to Stephen, handing his jacket out the open door. "You're getting wet."

Eva couldn't help but stare at his now almost see through shirt. He was still blocking her open door as he said, "Keep chattin' and ah'll be washed away."

"Sorry, hope you can keep up with me." Gently she pushed him back further into the rain and slammed her door shut. Through her mirror she could see him dodging puddles, but it didn't take him long to get to his car.

She started her car, shivering at the cold blast from the vents. Kicking off her wet and probably ruined shoes, she wriggled around in her seat to get comfortable. But her eyes never left the mirror, watching Stephen settle into his car.

It was wrong of her to ogle him, wasn't it? He wasn't there for her viewing pleasure. And he certainly wasn't there for her to fantasize about.

Not that she was fantasizing. Pressing her lips into a fine line she buckled her seat belt a bit harsher than normal and wrenched the gearshift into Drive. She may have stomped the gas a bit more firmly than was needed but she didn't regret the action.

Quickly she was out of the parking lot and onto the main road. The rain was still coming down hard, bouncing off anything it landed on. The car rolled through the small river like flows of water, making a swooshing noise. She flicked the radio on to drown out the noise, glancing up into the mirror every now and then.

Knowing the streets like the back of her hand was an advantage, maybe she'd take a couple of short cuts and see if Stephen could keep up.

A hint of guilt struck her. The man hadn't done anything wrong, other than inviting himself along. As she stopped at a red light, his truck pulled up behind her. The bright lights shone into her car, blinding her for a moment as she looked in the mirror. Her cold hands gripped onto the steering wheel tighter as she fought with her mind.

She was sure there was a little devil on one shoulder and a little angel on the other.

What the hell, she decided, smirking a bit as she looked to make sure she wouldn't cause a wreck. If nothing else she would learn how good a sport he was. Eva eased the car forward then quickly turned onto the side road. It wasn't a shortcut, not in the least, but it gave her a sense of freedom as she sped down the empty street.

Until she noticed the bright headlights of his truck.

If she could lose him, she'd allow herself the fantasizing.

As she rounded the corner, she could see the bank in the distance. Stephen had already caught up with her and she groaned in frustration. She liked that the bank was _hers_. She liked that the gym was _hers_. Maybe she should inquire as to how long he'd be working with the company.

Knowing Vince as she did, probably until the end of time. She was surprised the man hadn't ordered Stephen to pick her up in the mornings and stay by her side until she went to bed at night. She snorted at the thought, picturing the burly Irishman standing guard outside her door.

"Not as long as there's breath in my body," she said aloud, pressing harder on the gas.

Eva lost track of him as she entered the bank parking lot, taking a spot as close to the door as she could. Which wasn't as close as she would have liked. She twisted in her seat to reach the back floorboard where her umbrella was. She would need it now that Stephen and his jacket weren't around. A sound of disgust escaped her as she jammed her feet into her wet shoes. Straps of her bag over her arm and keys in hand she climbed out of the car slowly, popping open the umbrella. It would only take a few moments in the bank, then she could go to the gym and enjoy her spinning class. Then a stop at the grocery store for stir-fry ingredients. Then home.

She slammed the car door shut and pressed the lock button on her keyfob. Turning to go into the bank, she screeched at the sight of Stephen's truck parked in the next spot. Through the window she saw a look of amusement on his face and realized she'd jumped back against her car.

His window rolled down a bit and she heard his chuckle. "Yeh alright, Miss Jackson? Didn't mean to scare yeh."

Not much he didn't. "I'm fine. I'll be out in a moment. Don't bother following me in."

But as she started the wet trek across the parking lot she heard his door open and close. And knew he was right behind her. She steeled herself and pasted a smile on her face as she entered the bank. Her business was over with sooner than she thought it would be; most customers were using the drive-thru to avoid venturing out in the rain.

Eva remained painfully aware of his presence every moment, and noticed more than one curious glance from the tellers as Stephen loomed over her shoulder. Business complete she stood beneath the awning just outside the door and opened her umbrella.

"Not goin' to try losin' me again are yeh?" he asked.

Damn the man for reading her thoughts. "No. But if I somehow do, the gym is two blocks that way." She pointed in the right direction then reached for her keys. "You can't miss it."

"Don' worry, ah'll keep up wit' yeh." He gestured to the parking lot. "Ladies first."

Not trusting herself to speak, she stomped out into the rain. Her steps were quick, but soon enough he was by her side. He held the car door open for her as she fumbled with the umbrella, and sent her a grin when she muttered a thank-you.

She didn't bother trying to get rid of him on the way to the gym. She had a feeling that he would turn up no matter what she did. Like a bad penny, as Vince's wife would say. Not surprised when he parked next to her at the gym she took her time gathering her gym bag and keys.

There was no use messing with the umbrella again. Just as she reached to open the door it opened for her and she looked up to see him there, a black cap over his head and a bag hanging over one shoulder. His white shirt was now completely see through.

"Thank you." She climbed out with as much dignity as she could muster.

As they neared the building he jogged ahead to open the door for her, that silly grin once more in place. "Your highness," he intoned seriously, giving a slight bow.

Eva shook her head as she stepped into the lobby of the gym. The feeling of her hair clinging to her was horrible so before she started the spinning class she'd tie it up and leave it to dry. "The gym is down there." Eva pointed past the reception then up a set of stairs as she said, "Classes are on the second floor, but I don't think yoga or Pilates are your kind of thing."

"Yeh'd be surprised." Eva could only stare as Stephen smiled at her, "See yeh in the mornin'."

With that he walked off to reception. Foolishly she assumed he'd want her to give her a tour of the gym, but apparently he didn't need it. That was fine, she had a spinning class to attend. For the first time that day, she wandered off without a second shadow.

**A/N: The authors would like to thank the following for their reviews of the previous chapter: Amber, Jojo, Nikki, Malabrigo, boston246, Blackhat, ThatGirl54, EighteenSeconds, and ShannonTheAwesomeOne. **


	3. Chapter Three - Pushing Your Limit

Chapter Three – Pushing Your Limit

After showering and changing into dry clothes, Stephen made his way downstairs to the hotel bar. He felt invigorated after a workout at the gym and was ready for a few moments of relaxation before getting a good night's sleep.

And dealing with Eva Jackson all day tomorrow.

The thought killed a little of his good mood but he entered the bar and glanced around. Spying his friend at a table alone, he stepped up to the bar and ordered a beer before crossing the near-empty bar and joining the Englishman that had become his friend over the past several years. A sandwich lay neglected on a plate, his friend too engrossed in the thick biography of Henry VIII to worry about eating.

Stu Bennett closed the book with a thump and placed it on the table next to his plate. "Still raining is it?" he asked by way of greeting.

"It was when ah came in a while ago." Stephen looked to the TV mounted to the wall above the corner of the bar. Not interested in the crime drama that was on, he turned his attention back to his friend.

"You look beat." Stu had barely glanced at him, now working on his sandwich. He set it down, nose wrinkling as he lifted the bread. "Christ, I think they set the tomato out in the rain before putting it on here. Are you eating?"

"Ah grabbed a bite after leaving the gym." The fast food hadn't been the best, but it had been more appetizing than the soggy tomato slices Stu was pulling off his sandwich.

"To hell with this. I'll order pizza." Stu pushed the plate away and waved to the haggard waitress that was placing Stephen's beer on the table. "Another pint please, love." He nudged the plate so she would know to take it away. "I'd suggest throwing that out to a stray dog but as much as I dislike the beasts I wouldn't feed that to one that had bitten me."

She noisily snapped the gum in her mouth. "You saying you don't like it?"

"I'm saying that I'd as soon chew on the carcass of a plague-infested rat than eat that slop." Stu rested his elbows on the table.

"You still gotta pay for it," she warned as she marched back to the bar, plate in hand.

Stu rolled his eyes at Stephen. "Top-notch service. We'd be better off at a homeless shelter."

Stephen laughed and lifted his beer in salute. "How was yer first day?" he asked after taking a sip.

"Boring. My assignment spent the day in her office. She only came out to use the bathroom or get coffee from the staff room. Yours?"

"Interestin'."

"I took one good look at that woman and knew she wouldn't be easy. Did she try to ditch you?"

Stephen muttered a curse. "Twice."

The first time had probably been accidental. She'd told him before leaving the open house that she was stopping by the bank to check on some paperwork. She had just neglected to tell him which bank, merely hopping into her car with a wave before speeding off. The second time, however, had been deliberate. A sudden turn onto a side street without using a signal. She'd followed a rambling circuit to the bank he'd managed to keep up, and the look on her face when he'd parked next to her car had been priceless.

"What's on the agenda tomorrow?" Stu asked.

"Ah'm meetin' her at a showin' after lunch. But ah'll be at the office when she gets there." He wondered what time she usually arrived. She didn't seem the type to get to work well before time to prepare for her day. Nor did she seem the type to breeze in twenty minutes late. Making a mental note to get to the office at eight, he stretched out one leg and lifted his beer again.

"I heard a few rumors about the woman that got killed." Stu's announcement was unexpected but not surprising. He had a way of making connections in his mind then tossing them into conversation. After a few years of friendship, Stephen had learned how to keep up with him.

"Yeh know better than to listen to those." Stephen's eyes swept around the bar. The TV was now playing an episode of _I Love Lucy_. His gaze lingered on the screen long enough to place the episode before turning his attention back to Stu.

"Oh but these were juicy. Grace – Parker, the woman I'm keeping an eye on. She's at least seventy or I'm a virgin. Her office smells of mothballs. Anyway, she loves to gossip. About everyone. From McMahon down to the mentally handicapped man on the cleaning staff that has a limp." Stu finished his beer and leaned back in his chair.

"And yeh said yer day was borin'." Stephen grinned and motioned to the waitress to bring more beers. When he looked over, though, he saw she was leaning against the bar, twirling a lock of hair around her finger as she gabbed on the phone.

"Apparently there's never been so much as a blowjob in the copy room since she started working there." Stu looked almost disappointed, then smiled. "Except for the dearly departed."

"What'd she tell yeh about the murdered lass?"

"To start off with, the usual. What a delight she was to work with. Easygoing, personable, never met a stranger. The same old shit that everyone says about someone's that died. But I got the feeling it was true this time." Shrugging, the Englishman swiveled his head to look at the waitress. He lifted one hand to his mouth and whistled sharply to gain her attention. "Another round, please, if it's not too much trouble?"

"Ah'd keep me eye on her. She might spit in yeh drink." The look she was giving Stu would have frightened away a lesser man. But Stu returned the look and even snapped his fingers to encourage her along.

"Might improve the taste of the shit. Anyway, back to the gossip. She was a paragon around the office. If she was selling a property the ink was dry the day after the first showing. She volunteered at a local animal shelter on weekends, took interns under her wing donated to charities, and sang in the choir at her church." He made a face. "It's a wonder I didn't burst into flames whilst hearing how fucking perfect she was."

"Somethin' tells me she wasn't the saint everyone thought she was." Stephen took another sip of his beer. It was almost palatable once downing half of it.

"Exactly. According to Grace, Miss Proctor did more than teach interns the ins and outs of real estate business." Stu smirked.

Stephen glanced to the waitress, who was finally lowering her cell phone. Perhaps she would bring their next drinks within the next hour. "Yeh kiddin'."

"You're not insinuating that dear old Grace would lie? After walking in on the woman performing horrific sexual acts atop her desk with a male intern?" Stu shook his head. "Poor Grace. She had to go home and rest because she had palpitations."

"So the woman had sex in the office. Ah'm sure it happens all the time."

"Not in this office. McMahon runs a tight ship. Hanky panky is not allowed. Grace said there was a lot more to the Proctor woman but her blood pressure was going up and she couldn't tell me more. Pity." Stu turned to face the bar again. "Oh, good, she's putting on her lipstick. The wait for our drinks should only be another day or two."

"Yeh keep that up, yeh'll be wearin' yeh drink." Stephen thought of the bar McMahon had suggested Eva take him to. Miss Jackson. Not Eva. He gulped down the rest of his beer and set the glass down on the table. "Miss Jackson recommended a pub. Said she'd take me tomorrow."

She hadn't exactly said that. In fact, she'd looked horrified at the idea of taking him anywhere. Besides, he knew what street it was on. If nothing else he'd ask someone in the office and go there himself.

"Did she? You're getting on with her, then?"

Stephen groaned and wished his second beer was within reach. "Ah wouldn't say that. Not exactly. She tried to ditch me, remember?"

"But she's taking you out for a drink. That's better than what Grace offered me."

The waitress was slapping a tray on the bar. "What was that?"

"Coffee and snacks at her church's bible study."

"Christ," Stephen hissed.

"Amen." Stu burst into laughter only to stop abruptly at the sound of glass shattering against the floor.

"Son-of-a-fucking-bitch!"

Stephen groaned at the waitress's loud screech and pushed his chair back from the table. "Ah'm goin' back upstairs."

"Me too." Not wasting a moment, Stu was on his feet and crossing the bar for the exit, book tucked under his arm. "Charge it to my room, toots," he told the waitress, who was shoving a broom at the bartender.

"Yeh sure she knows how to do that?" Stephen asked as they waited for the elevator.

"Probably not."

They were walking towards Stephen's room before either spoke again. Fishing out his key, he glanced over to his friend. "Ah was thinkin' we could find an apartment or somethin' to share. Unless yeh want to stay in this dump for the duration of the job?"

"I'd rather live in my car." Stu followed him into the room and tossed his book onto the dresser. Spying a folder by the TV he picked it up.

"Miss Jackson's file," Stephen provided as he began emptying his pockets.

Stu flung himself onto the bed with a thud. The springs bounced for a moment under his weight. He flicked open the profile of Eva, immediately drawn to the picture of her. "That's her?" He couldn't help but ask. Her hair was shorter, cut into a bob that framed her chubbier face.

"She wants it changed." Stu looked over to Stephen to see him leaning back on the less than comfortable arm chair that was in the corner of the room. Stu had one exactly the same in his room, but his boasted a lot more stains.

"I can see why." It wasn't the most flattering but he'd seen worse.

"Ah dare yeh to say that to her." Stephen had a grin on his face.

"I'm not afraid of her like you are." Stu perused the details on the woman, eyes flicking back to the picture.

"Yeh haven't spent ten minutes with her. And ah'm no' afraid of her."

"Translated: she has you quaking in your boots." Stu grinned as he closed the file and placed it next to him. "She invited you out for a drink, right?"

Stephen hesitated, recalling the horrified look on her face when Vince voiced the idea. Without giving a definite answer he shrugged and twisted in the chair to get the spring out of his back. "Why? Yeh want to come along?"

"Well I hope they do beer better than this place. I'm sick of the stuff here." The thought of having to spend another night in the hotel was particularly depressing, but he wouldn't dwell on it for too long. He'd stayed in worse places.

"Yeh comin' along then?"

"Not if you don't want me there?" They both knew the implications of his question. If Stephen was interested in her, he'd let him go alone.

"Ah think we both need a good night out."

"Excellent." Stu grinned, already excited at the prospect of getting away from the hotel. "So this Eva, she's single right?"

"Grace not doin' it for yeh?"

Stu cringed at the mention of the old woman. She had the appearance and personality of an old, worn leather handbag.

"Why do you always get the hot ones?" Stu grunted as he sat up, reaching for the TV remote. He flicked the old TV on and wondered why they never settled for a nicer hotel. One with reliable hot water and a television with a signal that didn't cut out.

"Because you can't be trusted with them." Stephen stood up from the chair, stretching his arms above his head as he did. "Ah'm calling it a night, I have an early start."

"Alright, mate." With his eyes still firmly glued to the fuzzy TV screen – trying to make out what was on – he didn't expect Stephen nudge him off the bed. He landed on the grotty floor with a thud, immediately calling Stephen every name under the sun. "There was no need for that."

"Ah'll call yeh tomorrow about the pub." Stephen had a grin on his face, not at all sorry.

Stu nodded as he rubbed his shoulder, eventually making his way out the room. Before he shut the door behind him he said, "You're buying the first round."

* * *

"Do you want another coffee?"

Stephen shook his head no at the offer. Looking through the window that overlooked the parking lot, he rubbed his chin and tamped down the irritation that was continuing to grow. He knew without glancing at his watch that it was approaching nine thirty. He'd overheard more than a few people in the office comment that Eva was running late. Where had she gone? The calls he'd made to her phone had ended with her bright, cheery voice requesting he leave a message. He hadn't bothered leaving one.

With a sigh he turned and looked at the door to her office. Perhaps she'd had an appointment and had neglected to tell him. Purposefully, he was sure as he marched down the hall. He fished the key Vince had given him out of his pocket and let himself into her inner sanctum, easing the door shut behind him.

It was just as it had been the day before, files and paperwork littering the desk. A cream-colored cardigan was draped over the back of her chair. He took in the décor as he crossed to her desk, taking in the few photographs that lined the shelf. Real estate law books were stacked haphazardly on a small table behind her desk. Stephen had to wonder how she could find anything. Or if he would be able to find anything amid the organized chaos.

Slowly he walked across the room, swirling the chair around so he could sit on it. He rolled it closer to the desk as he took in its contents. An old coffee mug with the words brunettes have more fun stood out. He had yet to believe that was true, from past experience he'd go with blondes.

Along the frame of the computer monitor were post it notes, each scribbled with Eva's exuberant handwriting. Turning his attention back to the desk, a thick black diary stood out to him though the layers of paper work. If anything was bound to tell him where she was, that was it. He pulled it out, sending a wad of papers scattering to the floor.

He'd pick them up later.

Clearing a spot on the desk he opened the diary to the current week. In the margins of each page were random scribbles, as though she wanted to check each pen she picked up. The page for today was blank but for a cryptic note at the top.

_B/F w/ A 8._

He knew just as much about her plans as he had when he'd walked in. Absolutely nothing. Flipping back, he saw she used the same shorthand for each appointment. She'd had dinner with 'N' the week before. Beneath the note was another notation in a different ink. Apparently the dinner hadn't been to her liking, if the frowning face and 'never again' were any hint.

Casually he flicked through the diary as if he wasn't snooping around. In his defense, if Eva wasn't late or had told him where she'd be, he wouldn't have to do any snooping of any kind. After all, how was he supposed to protect someone who wasn't there.

She had a lot of lunches with 'V' scheduled. Vince, he supposed. Their boss was pretty adamant that no harm come to her. Stephen couldn't help but wonder about their relationship. They seemed a little closer than employer and employee, but he couldn't figure out why. Surely they weren't lovers?

They could be, he supposed, even as he grimaced at the thought. But Vince was married. Not that a wife at home mattered to many people. Shaking his head to push the thoughts away, he went back a few weeks in the diary. It was none of his business. If the woman wanted to sleep with her boss who was he to judge? Then again...

"Yeh could just ask her," he muttered under his breath as he looked to the computer. What secrets, he wondered, did that bit of technology hold? He sat back in the chair, rubbing his chin, and smirked when the movement caused the screen to wake up. The screen was requesting a password. Did he dare?

He did.

One of the notes around the monitor was the password. Rolling his eyes at her disregard for security he logged on and eyed the icons on the desktop. It was tidier than her actual desk. There were shortcuts for her email, internet browser, and two programs dealing with real estate. Stephen licked his lips and moved the mouse.

Just as he hovered the mouse over the documents folder, a key slid into the lock of the door and the handle rattled. Quickly he switched the monitor off and turned himself away from the computer. He knew it was Eva even before she stepped through the door.

"Stephen…" She was breathless, as if she'd run from her car, avoided the lift and taken those two flights of stairs.

"Yeh late."

Eva's eyes narrowed as it eventually sunk in that he was in her office. Her office that was previously locked. "You're in my chair, in my office."

"Ah know where ah've been." He remained in her chair, stretching his arms before tucking his hands behind his head. "Yeh didn't tell me yeh were gonna be late today."

"I'm not very late," she defended. Still staring at him from the doorway, she placed her bag in the chair by the door. As though afraid of entering further she stayed where she was as she removed her coat. "Why are you in my office? Better yet, how did you get in here? Why is my... Were you going through my things?"

Stephen's eyes widened at the barrage of questions. She finally crossed the room and snatched her diary off the desk. "So... How was breakfast?"

"It was-" As if someone had stunned her she stopped mid-sentence, "You went through my diary?"

"Ah've been hired to put your mind at ease, so yeh know yer safe when yeh showing a house. That woman who got attacked-"

"She has a name." Eva quickly shut the door to her office so no passer-by's could hear their little argument. "Two days and you're already acting like you own the place."

Stephen scoffed, earning a look of disdain from Eva. "Far from it."

"You just broke into my office-"

"Ah have a key," he informed her. Standing, he leveled his gaze at her. "Ah'm not here to just be a glorified escort, Miss Jackson. The woman—"

"Angela." She spoke through clenched teeth and held her diary to her chest. "Her name is Angela. She's left her house only once since the attack. To buy groceries. And she only did that because I made her. Please stop referring to her as 'the woman that got attacked.' She's a human being."

"Sorry." Startled at the emotion in her voice, he decided to take another track. "Ah was hired to make sure that doesn't happen to yeh. And ah can't do that if yeh don' trust me."

"You'll have to gain my trust. I don't know you, and coming into my office and going through my things has not been your wisest move." The words rolled off her tongue with such defiance, she'd almost left him speechless. Almost.

"Maybe yeh'll be thanking me one day."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Stephen thought about Vince's words to him the day he'd arrived. Something was up but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Never mind." He shook his head and sighed, still feeling his icy stare on him. He hadn't anticipated this reaction at all. He knew she'd be a little bit annoyed, but she was hiding something. "So where've yeh been?"

"You've been through my diary, you tell me."

With A, whoever that was. For a quick tumble in bed before work, perhaps? Stephen knew better than to ask, though. But he couldn't resist letting his gaze dip and take in her figure. Her hair and clothes were as flawless as though she'd just put them on. Finally meeting her eyes again, he shrugged. "Ah couldn't understand your code, but ah'm guessing yeh had breakfast with someone."

"Very astute." She set the diary down and moved to the corner of her desk. "Do you mind moving so I can get some work done?"

"No' at all." Stephen smiled as he brushed past her, happy when she huffed. He contemplated, just for a moment, to make her life hard too but decided against it. Just do your job. He picked up her handbag and set it down on the floor before slumping into the chair. Crossing his arms over his chest, he once again brought his gaze to her.

Unsurprisingly she hadn't moved an inch and as still as a statue she continued to stare at him. Obviously she wasn't used to people being in her personal space for so long.

"So you're just going to sit there all morning whilst I do paperwork?"

"Looks like it."

"Well you might as well make yourself useful." She moved closer to him, bending down to pick up the handbag he'd disregarded. "I like my coffee strong with two sugars."

"Ah'm not yeh assistant."

"Don't you want some?" she asked, a scowl on her face as she watched him stretch his legs out in front of him.

"Yeh offerin' to go get me a cup?" Stephen leaned his head back and slumped down further in the seat to get comfortable. Fighting a smirk when she had to step over his legs to get back to her desk, he cleared his throat. "Because ah like mine strong. A dab of cream, no sugar."

"Get it yourself," she scoffed.

"Fair enough." He made a show of stretching his legs out even farther. "So these drinks yeh takin' me for tonight."

"I don't think I agreed—"

"Ah take it seven gives yeh enough time to go home and do whatever yeh need to do."

"I beg your pardon?" When he looked at her Stephen saw she was staring at him in dismay.

"Whatever it is that women do to get ready. Ah'll pick yeh up. Me mate's comin' with us. We have a proposition for yeh." He smiled as her eyes widened, thinking the worst.

"Not to burst your bubble but I don't do threesomes," she managed after a moment.

"Ah don't either. At least, not with another man." Stephen grinned when her eyes widened further. With a sigh he rose to his feet and checked the time. "Ah'm goin' for a cup of coffee. Ah'll tell him yer happy to accompany us to the pub."

"I never said – You can't just – How do you know I don't already have plans?" She was on her feet, moving to block his exit.

"Yeh always act like this when a man asks you out?"

"You hardly asked."

"Ah know yeh don't have plans. Yeh would've said so already if yeh did." Grasping her upper arms, Stephen lifted her up and set her down beside him so he could open the door. Ignoring her gasp of pure outrage he gave her a smile. "An' if yeh stop pesterin' me, ah'll bring yeh some coffee."

**A/N: Thank you to Nikki, Jojo, boston246, ThatGirl54, ShannonTheAwesomeOne and katiefabe for the reviews! Just a little reminder that the fabulous Lou (xLou26) is co-writing this with me. There will be no steamy twisted threesomes! Not that I'm aware of, at least. Of course, Lou may surprise me one of these days... **


	4. Chapter Four - Hungry Eyes

Chapter Four – Hungry Eyes

Eva drummed her fingers on the edge of the desk as she flipped through her calendar. She had pored over her schedule in the hopes that something would need doing immediately but she found herself at a loss. Her paperwork was caught up. She'd organized the top drawer of her desk. And now there was nothing to do but sit. Or pray that someone would enter her office with work for her to do. There was the showing that afternoon but she would familiarize herself with the finer details later.

Painfully aware of Stephen's silent presence, she glanced down and examined her nails. "Crap," she muttered under her breath upon discovering a chip in one. Reaching for her bag, she began to root around for the quilted pouch she kept her manicure set in. As she placed the items on the desk the shrill ring of a cell phone pierced the silence.

Stephen pulled out his phone, smiling as he looked to the screen. "Alright if ah take this?"

"Nothing's stopping you," she pointed out, opening her desk drawer to locate the small bottle of nail polish remover. She glanced up to see him press the phone to his ear then turned her attention to removing the turquoise polish from her index finger.

"_Mo ghrá_," Stephen said, his tone filled with affection.

Eva's head shot up, eyes widening as more unrecognizable words spilled from his mouth. It wasn't a language she had ever heard before. Irish, perhaps? When he caught her looking he grinned, stretching out his legs to cross them in front of him.

"No, no, ah'm no' busy. Glad yeh called. Yeh been on me mind."

Slowing she removed the polish from her nail, taking her time as she listened in on Stephens conversation. She wondered who was on the other end. The tone he used made let her know that it was someone close to him – definitely a woman. Unless…no. Eva shook her head, that couldn't possibly be true. With her nail free from polish, she glanced up for a moment to see Stephen fully relaxed. She heard the words 'work' and 'Connecticut' then 'New York.'

Unscrewing the top of the bottle, she scraped off the excess polish from the brush. Finally silence – she wanted to thank whoever was on the other end of the line. Just as the tip of the brush touched the top of her nail, Stephen bellowed out a hearty laugh, making her jump.

"Damnit!" The brush slid upwards, coating her finger in the pretty turquoise liquid.

"Shhh, ah'm on the phone."

"You can't talk to your girlfriend later?" she asked pertly. Seeing his quick glare, though, she shrugged and went to work cleaning her skin. She heard him mutter something, probably in Irish, then his tone returned to one of gentle affection. Trying her very best not to eavesdrop she worked diligently on her finger, bracing herself for more outbursts from him.

He rattled off what she was sure were words of love and she looked up just in time to see him pocketing his phone. Standing, he stretched out his arms. "Ah told me mate yeh agreed to takin' us out tonight."

She'd almost forgotten. Frowning as she opened the bottle of top coat, she waited until she'd applied a thin coat to her nail before speaking. "I'm just going because you bullied me into it. I'll stay for a drink then you two are on your own."

"C'mon it'll be fun." She remained silent and he scowled. "What? No' posh enough for yeh?"

"I don't know you, or this mate of yours."

"Yeh'll get to know us." Stephen grinned, scowl long gone. He paced the floor before moving towards the window behind her desk. She heard him part the metal blinds before they snapped back into place. "Ah'll buy yeh a glass o' Tullamore Dew."

Spinning around on her chair, she bumped into his legs. "What on earth is that?"

"Only the best Irish whiskey."

"I don't drink whiskey." She moved her chair slightly, though he'd shown no sign of even feeling her slam into him.

"A Guinness, then."

Was he planning on getting her drunk? Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and turned back to her desk. She held her finger aloft to keep from causing damage and began tossing the manicure things back into her bag. Keeping her voice firm, she said, "No, thank you."

"Yeh can't sit there drinkin' water."

It occurred to her that he wouldn't understand. She also realized he would pester her endlessly until she told him point blank that she never drank. "I'll have coffee, or tea. But I don't drink on weeknights." Hopefully that would satisfy whatever curiosity he had.

"Yeh kiddin'."

"I have to go show a house uptown this afternoon." Eva turned back to her desk, scanning the open diary.

"Ah'll drive." Stephen announced, walking back to the chair he'd previously occupied. He slumped down and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You don't know the area." He probably thought she'd try and ditch him again. She wouldn't – that plan didn't work the first time.

"Ah'll get to know it."

Eva huffed, Stephen's bossy side starting to irritate her. "Are you always like this?"

"Diligent? Handsome?"

"I was leaning more towards stubborn."

"That's just part of me charm." He smiled. "Besides, yeh'll be there to give me directions."

Staring at him, she could only shake her head. He had a point. Giving up, she reached for the packet of information on the house she would be showing. As she read over the details her mind started to wander, apprehension setting in. Why did he have to bring a friend? Why did she have to go at all? What was she going to wear?

Her lips pressed into a fine line as she mentally ran over the contents of her closet.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"This is not a date," she blurted, looking over to him with a scowl.

"Yeh said that already." Stephen smirked, "Plus yeh no' me type."

Eva was taken aback. Was she actually offended by his words? Well, that was fine because he wasn't her type either. Apart from the muscles – those gained some attention from her. Sure he was trying to attain some kind of reaction from her she smiled at him.

"If we leave now, we could get some real coffee on the way? It'll taste a lot better than the watered down stuff here."

Stephen nodded, unfolding himself from the chair. Relieved when he opened the door and went into the hall, she released a breath and gathered her things. She made sure to check to see if she needed her umbrella, grateful to see no hint of clouds in the sky. Perhaps she could sit outside at one of the tables and enjoy the sunshine. Jacket over her arm she left the office, rearing back when she nearly ran into Stephen's huge frame.

"Yeh ready?" he asked, reaching around her to grab his jacket off the chair just inside the door.

"I'm going to let Vince know I'm leaving." Don't ask questions, she silently begged, relief sweeping through her when he gave a nod. "I'll meet you downstairs." One eyebrow rose and she groaned. "I'm not going to sneak out the back. I've never been one to shimmy out of a second-story window and rappel down the side of the building."

"Ah'll be waitin' downstairs." He gave her a nod and headed for the stairs.

She turned, intent on dropping into Vince's office to let him know where she would be if he needed her. She had barely taken two steps, though, when she saw a man exiting the break room. His eyes met hers briefly before dipping down. Recognizing him as the man who'd given her a thorough perusal a few days prior. As she had then she felt naked under his stare and self-consciously tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

He didn't speak. Filling the doorway with his large frame, he took a sip from the cup in his hand as though waiting for her to go by. She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to get that close to him. Wary of his brooding expression she moved forward, unintentionally hastening her steps to get away as quickly as possible.

* * *

"Is she always this late?"

Stephen looked across to Stu. He was pulling the sleeve of his jacket back, taking an annoyed look at his watch. He thought back to that morning, waiting around for her to arrive. "Seems so."

"Maybe we can find our own way there, I'll call us a taxi." Stu announced just as they were bathed in a glow of bright yellow light. It washed over them quickly then a silver SUV appeared in front of them. "About bloody time."

Stephen grinned, slapping Stu on the back as he passed him. He approached the car, glancing in through the window at Eva. She smiled his way and motioned for him to get into the car.

"It's you." Eva blurted out, turning in her seat as Stu clambered into the rear.

"Nice to meet you too." Stu smiled, strapping in his seat belt whilst he took a cautionary glance at Stephen.

"You've met?" Stephen asked, watching the exchange between them. Surely if they had, Stu would've mentioned it.

Eva scoffed before she said, "Hardly, he lurks around in corridors and doorways." She turned back, setting off from the hotel in the direction of the bar. She hadn't been before, but she knew kind of where it was.

"You have a wild imagination." Stu stated before the back of the car lit up with the brightness of his phone.

"You've never said hello." Eva mumbled and Stephen watched as her gaze flicked into the rear view mirror every now and then to look at him.

"I'd just like to point out, you've never said hello either."

"But-"

Stu cut in before she could carry on, his tone holding some humor that Eva failed to notice. "That's fine, you don't have to explain."

Stephen laughed to himself and shook his head, earning him a strange look from Eva. They were both acting a little odd for his liking. Or maybe Eva was always like his, he didn't know her well enough to say. Stu however seemed a little too quiet for his liking.

Eva was humming to herself, her attention seemingly on the road, but Stephen knew she was more focused than she should be on the man in the back seat. Unnerved by the silence he glanced to the radio controls and drummed his fingers against his thighs. He tried several times to get a conversation started, but neither Eva nor Stu picked up when he lagged. Finally he fell silent, relieved when she guided the SUV into a cramped parking lot. Stu was out before she parked good, slamming the door behind him.

"Isn't he charming," she muttered as she plucked her phone and wallet from the cupholders between the seats.

Stephen managed a half-hearted chuckle, climbing out to wait for her. He frowned at how dark the parking area was, instinctively moving close to her side when she came around the front of the vehicle. Stu, he noticed, was waiting several feet away.

Eva tensed as they began walking towards the front of the building, one hand toying with the fringed scarf around her neck. A neon Guinness sign flickered as they rounded the corner and he heard her groan.

Stephen held onto her arm before she could move any farther away from him. "Yeh sure yeh alright being here?"

"Yes, why?" Eva pulled her arm free from him and continued walking, but he stayed close beside her.

"It's me job to take care of yeh." Poor excuse but partly the truth. Stu had already disappeared inside, probably to check the place out before Eva could get in there. It was an innate reaction for the both of them.

"Actually I can take care of myself." Eva glanced back at him, smiling as she did so. Stephen grabbed hold of her shoulders, startling her as she stopped in her tracks. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Yeh might want to watch where yeh going." He grinned as she turned around, her nose an inch away from the doors to the pub. He pulled her back then leaned across her to open the door. "In yeh go."

Pushing her a little bit, she eventually moved forward with an indignant huff. She'd never get used to him hovering around her.

The pub was busy, but there was a relaxed atmosphere that made Stephen smile. Conversations were low as they found a table in a corner. Stu seated himself so he could watch the entrance. Across from him, Stephen could keep an eye on the kitchen door and the corridor leading to the back. Eva perched on the seat between them, looking for all the world as though she would bolt at any second.

With a glance around, Stephen took in the clientele. Most appeared to be hardworking sorts. Their mud-stained boots and hunched shoulders told more about them than any words ever could. One across the way glanced over, raising his glass in silent greeting and Stephen nodded.

These were his people.

A waitress appeared, greeting them warmly as she handed over menus. Unobtrusive, she told them the soup of the day before asking what they'd like to drink.

Both men looked to Eva, who slid down in her seat a bit under the scrutiny. "Diet Coke?" she requested, clearing her throat. "With lime, please."

"Christ," Stu muttered under his breath. "Stella."

"Guinness."

"Coming right up." The waitress gave a sunny smile before heading away.

"Wonder if the fish and chips are decent," Stu commented as he began to peruse the menu.

"You mean we're eating?" Eva stopped drumming her fingers on the table to stare at the men. "I thought..."

"Can't drink on an empty stomach, lass," Stephen informed with a chuckle. "Have yeh eaten?"

"No—"

"Then go ahead and pick somethin'. Our treat." Stephen watched as she sheepishly took hold of a menu, holding it up in front of her so he could no longer see her face. He looked past Stu to the bar, noticing a man looking their way. His gaze was focused on Eva. That wasn't out of the ordinary, he supposed. Attractive young women always gained interest from men. But there was something in the way the man stared...

Nodding at Stu, he silently warned him of the man he'd clocked. They'd worked together long enough to read each other. The guy seemed to fit in – scruffy jeans and casual t-shirt – but his face was darkened under the rim of his baseball cap.

"Interesting," Stu murmured, barely glancing up from his menu.

"What?" This from Eva, who lowered her menu for a moment. Stephen felt her gaze on him and then she was starting to turn around. "Who—"

Stu's knee banged the underside of the table, upsetting the silverware and causing Eva to shift her attention to him. "Sorry. Muscle spasm."

At the bar, the man continued to watch. One hand raised to adjust his cap, giving Stephen a brief glimpse of his eyes before they were concealed again. At the far end of the bar several men loudly complained about the replay of a game playing on the television. When Stephen looked back to the man, he'd turned his back, shoulders hunched as he sipped a beer.

Tense now, Stephen kept an eye on him. He grunted his thanks when the waitress returned with their drinks. Rattling off his order when prompted, he pushed his chair back. The man was on the move. "Ah'm goin' to the gents'."

The silence that lingered over the table in his wake began to grow awkward. Everyone else in the room was chattering away but Eva had her lips sealed tightly. Stu ran his fingers across the table, sliding them up the condensed glass of beer.

"So…" he started, not quite sure where he was going. One eyebrow arched and he grasped for something inane. "How long have you worked for Vince?" he finally asked, hoping to get her to open up a little bit. She chewed on her lip, looking anywhere but at him.

"A while." Her answer was mumbled as she cast her gaze over her shoulder to the corridor that Stephen had disappeared down. "How long have you been a bodyguard?"

"I'm more personal security."

"But you guard bodies don't you?"

Stu nodded, her words making him shift his gaze to her body. She was petite, but he could tell she had curves – her jeans were tight enough for him to appreciate them.

"Whose body are you guarding now? Or is it some huge secret?"

He knew whose body he would like to be guarding, but kept that thought to himself as he dragged his eyes upwards. "It's not a secret. Grace Parker."

Eva's smile was brief but charming, and she finally looked at him. "She's sweet."

Stu nodded, he couldn't argue that. She'd been kind enough to him from the day they'd met but truth be told, he was used to a more active role.

"I'm confused about something though." Stu frowned but gestured for her to continue, "You don't seem like the type of guy to take up a job in this town."

"What type of guy do I seem like?"

"I don't know, like you belong guarding celebrities or important people."

"You don't think you're important?"

"I think Vince is overreacting. Don't get me wrong," she hastened to add when he was about to argue her point, "I see the need for security. Especially in some neighborhoods that are a bit on the rough side. But in all the years I've worked there, nothing has ever happened to any of us. Surely these are two isolated incidents. I doubt there's some madman out there waiting to off all of Vince's agents."

"And if there is?" Stu asked quietly, more than a little amazed at the length of her speech.

"That's why I have Stephen." She twirled the straw in her glass and glanced around. "He's taking a long time."

"He's checking out that guy." Stu leaned back in his seat and lifted his glass for a sip.

The twirling stopped. "What guy?"

"The one that was staring at you."

Eva turned in her seat, all but craning her neck to look around the bar. When Stu chuckled she faced him again, eyes wide with confusion.

"He's gone now."

"What happened to him?"

"Not sure yet. Ste followed him." From behind her he saw the waitress approaching and held his beer out of the way so would have room to set the plates. His stomach rumbled hungrily as he breathed in the aroma of a hearty meal. "Don't worry about him, he can take care of himself."

"The burger will be out in just a couple minutes, sir." The waitress turned the plate in front of him and smiled. "Sorry for the wait."

"No problem, sweetheart. Thank you."

Eva looked from her paltry salad to the fish and chips in front of Stu. "Who can take care of himself? Stephen? Or the man that was looking at me?"

"Better eat up before it gets cold." She scowled and he laughed, glancing over his shoulder to see if Stephen was on his way back. "Stephen."

Grateful to see his friend return, Stu relaxed a little bit. He could tell there had been no altercation with the man, no scuffs or marks were visible on his hands as he sat down. Then again, Stephen had no reason to start a fight.

"Ah need yeh to look this license plate up." Stu leaned forward as Stephen pulled his phone out of his pocket. Interesting, Stu thought. Their connections would always come in handy.

"What? Whose license plate? Stephen?"

"Nothin' for yeh to worry about, lass." Stephen smiled as his burger was placed in front of him.

Stu took note of the letters and numbers on the screen and nodded. He turned his gaze on Eva as she poked her fork around her salad, eyeing up the fries on Stephens plate. She then looked to his plate and he could practically hear the cogs in her head turning.

"How do you eat stuff like that," Eva gestured at their food her eyes locking with his for a moment, "and yet you still look like that."

"Like what?" Stu asked, wanting her to say what was on her mind. He grinned before stabbing a bunch of fries on his fork then proceeded to shovel them into his mouth.

"You're eating like starved field hands," she muttered, scowling at the vivid greens on her fork before pushing them into her mouth.

"Our bodies need fuel." Stu wiped his mouth with the back of his hand then finished his beer. He glanced up, smiling when he saw the waitress on her way with another. "Fuel, Miss Jackson. Not hamster snacks."

"Salads are healthy."

"That plate of lawn clippings is far from healthy," he snorted. Looking at the salad with derision, he shook his head. "Hardly any protein. No dairy. No grains. You'd get as much nutrition if you ate the menu." Stu eyed her across the table and smirked. "It'd probably taste better."

"Here yeh go." Stephen held his plate close to Eva's scraping off some of the fries onto her plate. Eva was already pushing the plate away and Stu held back a laugh.

"Thank you Stephen." She smiled sweetly then glanced at Stu.

"I don't share."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Because I'm a starving field hand?" He lifted his fork, admiring the steam that curled from the chunk of perfectly fried fish before popping it into his mouth.

"With the body of a Greek god," she mumbled under her breath as she dipped a fry into the ketchup on Stephen's plate.

"I'm sorry?" Stu tilted his head as though he hadn't heard her clearly. "I didn't quite catch that."

"Nothing." Eva bit into the fry. A brief look of bliss passed over her face and then she was reaching for another.

"No, I'm sure you said something."

"Just thinking out loud. Nothing important."

There was a smile playing at her lips, though, when she met his eyes across the table. Refusing to look away, Stu reached for his beer. She broke eye contact to reach for another fry and he let his focus move to the lock of hair that fell across her cheek. One hand lifted to sweep it back, slim fingers holding it in place. His gaze roved over her hand, taking in the lack of rings. She smiled as she took a sip of her drink, oblivious to his staring, and he took a hearty gulp of his beer upon noticing the dimple in her cheek.

Feeling as though he was being watched, he scanned the bar then around to Stephen. The scowl he was being sent was less than friendly. With a roll of his eyes he turned his attention back to his food. So he'd been checking Eva out, no big deal. And Stephen sure as hell knew he liked, no loved, to admire the female form. He knew Stephen would warn him off her – never mix business with pleasure. As far as he was concerned, there was no harm in looking.

After all, why else did he have eyes?

**A/N - Thank you to: boston246, Nikki, ThatGirl54, Jojo, MiZdemEAnIngRK0, prettybaby69, Blackhat, cenafan112, LilOrchidJenny, and OrtonFan for the reviews. We apologize for the length between updates and send you all lots of love. :) - Josie and Lou**


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